


Your Cluttered Emotional Landscape

by queenofzan



Series: Fakey Bullshit [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Bisexual Male Character, Blackmail, Brother/Sister Incest, Dubious Consent, F/M, Ill-advised bets, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, M/M, Multi, Non-Consensual Groping, POV Second Person, Polyamory, Self-Loathing, Sexual Harassment, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-02-26 14:51:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23111863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenofzan/pseuds/queenofzan
Summary: Your name is Ben Falsten and your life is not going to plan.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character, Original Female Character/Original Male Character/Original Male Character, Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Series: Fakey Bullshit [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1661455
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	Your Cluttered Emotional Landscape

**Author's Note:**

> Underage tag is for a scene in the middle where teens of similar age are fooling around in front of POV character, otherwise it's only implied; additional warnings for things that are more minor than things listed in the tags are: internalized biphobia, and mentions of bdsm
> 
> Also this does start in childhood and follow the POV character into adulthood (and smut) so like, be advised of that I guess

You don't know when your life went off the rails. Every time you think you've figured out the start of it, you remember something earlier. For all you know, your life went off the rails when you were ten months old and Sadie was born. You were barely crawling and your life was already careening out of control.

Because the real problem is your sister Sadie, or maybe the real problem is you and how you relate to Sadie; either way, your sister is at the heart of your troubles.

She's smart, and wants to catch up with you, so she is your first friend. She starts talking right after you, it seems like, even though she's nearly a year younger. You do everything together as children, and though you don't remember it clearly, your parents tell you Sadie lost it when you went to school, and you did so poorly your teacher said you weren't ready for school yet, maybe.

They homeschool you for a year, and Sadie does all the work too, and when you re-enter public school, Sadie is admitted into the same grade.

People think you are twins. When you're older, you realize it is because they sense something weird about your relationship.  
You are not twins, but sometimes when Sadie isn't around, you don't correct people. It's better they think that than get at the truth.

She suggests it, she does it first, a fact you cling to later. You are seven and you have a new best friend and his relationship with Sadie is weird because most of the kids your age don't have cross gender friends. Maybe that's why she suggests it. Maybe she would have suggested it no matter what.

You practice kissing together, which it turns out is just kissing but it's okay because it's only practice. You feel like that might not hold up to adult scrutiny. You're too young for kissing. You're too young for lots of stuff. You're the same amount of too young as Sadie is, too, which is unfair, because she is almost a year younger than you, more than ten months younger.

Your parents try to be open with you. During your homeschool year, you got the basic anatomy lessons through shared bath time. You are told you do not touch someone else's body without their permission, and you especially do not touch their gentles, or private parts.

(You are eleven before you realize the word is actually "genitals", because no one but your parents ever uses anything but euphemisms around you. Sadie laughs at you, because she read it in a book, and knew better.)

It is a later lesson, though not by much, that it is generally frowned upon to touch your sibling in those areas, even with permission. You and Sadie ask why, and receive a very jumbled and confusing explanation about other people not liking it. You get the feeling neither of your parents has ever had to explain this to anyone.

Anyway, this is why you keep it a secret that you practice kissing. Despite their efforts to be open with you, your parents have made their stance on this sort of thing clear enough. This is also why you are both careful to not talk about or get caught continuing your anatomy lessons. You don't touch each other, but you do watch each other while you touch yourselves. But that gets boring pretty quickly, once you both feel like you understand how both your systems work.

So you are seven when you resume activities your parents would disapprove of. Sadie suggests it, and you do it, and you do it off and on when you're alone for years. You're caught when you're ten and Sadie is a month shy of ten.

Your parents explain, a little more coherently, why you are not supposed to do this with each other.

"But sex doesn't have to involve pregnancy," Sadie says.

"That's true," your mother says, "but it's still not a thing people are supposed to do with close family members."

"Why?" Sadie asks, frustrated. "You just said it was about babies, and now you're saying that doesn't matter."

Your mom looks at your dad. She seems as frustrated as Sadie. Your father says, "Sometimes rules don't have a real reason, but everyone still follows them."

"Augh!" Sadie says, and throws herself on to the couch to bury her face in a cushion.

"You said a bad rule or law is one you don't have to follow," you say. You think they're trying to avoid saying "because we say so," but if Sadie doesn't get it either, maybe your parents are wrong? You don't like that idea. Not that they haven't been wrong before, but usually they admit it.

"It's not a bad rule," your dad says.

"Yes it is," Sadie says, muffled by the couch cushion. She turns so she can speak clearly. "If you can't explain it and no one's getting hurt if we break it, it's a bad rule."

Your mom huffs. Your dad holds a hand up and says, "Okay, let me explain why it's a bad idea to break, then, and how people do get hurt if you break it. Most people think it's gross." You roll your eyes. You go to school, you figured that much out. "Most people will think there is something wrong with you. Lots of people will probably think one of you is taking advantage of the other one, probably Ben," he says. "It could also get you taken away from us, because they'll think we told you to do it, or that we're not bothering to teach you better, or that we're abusing you."

"That's ridiculous!" Sadie yells, sitting up.

"That's the way it is," your dad says. "So please, even if we all know you wouldn't have a baby, even if both of you want to do it and don't think there's anything wrong with it, don't do it anymore."

"That's stupid," Sadie mumbled. "But okay."

"Promise?" your mom asks, and looks at you too.

"Yes," you say, your face warm. "I don't want to get taken away."

"Me neither," Sadie says. "So we just...pretend we get it?"

"Yes," your parents say at the same time. "Please," your mother adds.

So you stop. You don't even talk about it much, and then you don't talk about it at all. You both act like it grosses you out when you watch movies with incest jokes, and when you learn about royal families marrying their siblings, and you do not wish you were dead royalty.

After a while it sort of works, in that you do feel gross for still wanting to kiss Sadie. You feel guilty for looking at incest porn, even though you do it and don't really consider stopping. You yell at people who imply things about living with Sadie, which happens all the time once you're in high school and she's sleeping with everyone she wants to, which is like half the school, and you feel like a hypocrite because of course you have thought about it.

*

You can't be sure, because obviously you no longer talk about it, but Sadie still thinks about it too. She teases you, in a way that might be playful if you didn't both know you had already stepped over that line together.

You're freshmen, both of you, and hanging out with Dan, when she asks him if he's had a blowjob before.

"Jeez, Sadie," he says. "Yeah, why?"

"Because I've never given one before," she says.

"I am right here," you say. You sound the correct level and type of exasperated.

"Oh please," Sadie says, waving a hand at you. She turns back to Dan. "So you'd be able to tell me if I messed up, right? You could tell me what to do?"

"I'm sure the internet's got that covered," Dan says. "Dudes love talking about that shit online."

"Well, yeah," she says, "but I meant like, hands-on instruction. Like you could talk me through it while I blow you."

"Still right here," you say. You do not sound jealous. "You have a bedroom."

"That's down the hall," she says. She leans in to Dan. This is a losing battle, you think. Dan is too high to resist Sadie asking to blow him. "Can I?"

"Shit," he says, "yeah." And he undoes his belt.

"Guys," you say, but you don't move.

You're across from Dan, so when Sadie settles in between his legs and bends over him, you have a great view of her ass, and, since she's wearing a short skirt, her panties. Hearing Dan's directions is almost the worst part.

Until she gets into it and puts one of her hands between her legs, which you can see, because she's folded over in front of Dan. Then she puts her hand in her underwear, so all you can see is the outline of it through her visibly damp panties. That is definitely the worst part.

Afterward, Dan says to you, "Man, I bet you wish the only girl here wasn't your sister."

Sadie doesn't look at you, but you hear her snerk.

You sigh, and do not look at her, and manfully do not murder Dan.

*

You pretend it bothers you when Sadie has loud sex with someone in earshot, and you feel sick when you let yourself masturbate to it. You pretend you're grossed out and embarrassed, instead of jealous, when she fucks someone at a party while you're still in the room. You act like it bothers you when she goes down on Dan in front of you, and it does, but not for the right reasons.

Your parents seem to think their intervention worked. They stop being hesitant to leave you alone together. They stop hinting that it would be better to do whatever pre-adolescent experimentation with Finn. They think you have pretended yourselves into a normal sibling relationship. They don't suspect they talked you into a weird, dysfunctional relationship with sex. They think they managed the opposite.

The first time you make out with someone and tell Finn about it, he asks if it was "as good." He does not say what it is being compared to, but he was the only other person who ever knew about you and Sadie practicing. Instead of lying to him, you just shrug. "It was good," you say. "I like her a lot."

That's when it's easiest. Not just that one relationship with that girl, but when you're seeing someone. Sadie complains about monogamy, and Finn doesn't really date, and lots of your friends talk about temptation and stuff, but you find monogamy comfortable. You stop seeing anyone but your girlfriend (and presumably it would be the same with your thus-far hypothetical boyfriends) in a romantic or sexual light. It's like your focus changes, and it's wonderful and freeing to have an emotional landscape uncluttered by your inappropriate feelings for your sister.

Breakups are rough, though. You want comfort, but you feel weird accepting it from Sadie, because those urges come rushing back when you realize you no longer have romantic obligations. It would be easy to kiss Sadie and let that carry you away. You usually end up avoiding her until you feel less vulnerable.

*

You are not jealous of Finn when he gets a girlfriend, or jealous of his girlfriend. You know what jealousy feels like, from watching Sadie kiss other people and fuck other people and treat you the way she ought to. The feeling you get when you see Finn with Connie is not the feeling you get when you see Sadie with someone, so it can't be jealousy.

Maybe different types of jealousy feel different. Maybe being jealous of Finn's time, as his friend, feels different from romantic jealousy over seeing Sadie with someone else.

You cannot have a crush on your straight best friend _and_ your sister. It would be the most unfair. It feels different, so it must be something else.

*

She has sex in public at parties you're at. She leans in too close to you at Finn's pool. She asks you to do up her formal dresses. She gets dropped off late at night, makeup smeared, clothes disheveled, smelling like someone else's perfume or cologne, and blinks lazily at you on her way down the hall.

But still, sometimes you doubt yourself. Maybe she grew out of it. She doesn't seem to have the hang-ups you have. She started kissing other people practically the day you promised to stop, and moved smoothly to having sex with them whenever she wanted. She doesn't avoid you after breakups--not that she has breakups, really, since she does mostly casual physical relationships. She hardly seems affected, while you feel sometimes like your whole life revolves around it.

*

Connie is a year ahead of you, and she breaks up with Finn at graduation. She's moving away, and it wouldn't be fair. Finn nods, and smiles, and hugs her and wishes her well. It is only later, laying in your room on the floor listening to music, that Finn yells, "Fair for who!" and rolls onto his stomach to bury his face in his arms.

You look at Sadie, and she looks lost. She's the smart one, she's the one who knows stuff, and you can't even feel smug about knowing as much as she does when Finn is crying on your floor and you don't know how to help.

You end up laying on the floor on top of Finn, both of you draped over his back, not speaking.

Finn says, "This sucks." You go to get up, and he says, "No, don't--can you guys just. Stay here with me?"

"Of course," Sadie says, and she doesn't offer to blow him or anything, and you listen to Finn's breathing and feel his chest rise and fall beneath you until he stops crying, until his breathing evens out, until you all fall asleep, piled on the floor, with a playlist Gloria made for Sadie repeating endlessly.

When you wake up in the morning, Sadie has drooled on your sleeve and Finn is tangled in jeans he didn't quite manage to kick off. Your neck hurts and your hips hurt and you are feeling better than you have in months.

*

Your parents go on longer and longer trips. After you turn eighteen, they move you and Sadie to a smaller house, sell the old place, and go to Europe for the year. The first party you throw ends with the house totally trashed. Your room was ransacked, people were yelling at porn in the living room, Dan got punched in the face for being a shitty card player, or card dealer, or something--you could not tell from the yelling--someone threw up in the bathtub.

In the morning, Sadie walks into the living room and shouts, "Oh my god Ben, we have to clean up."

"Hey, did everyone raid your room for stuff too?" you call down the hall as you follow her.

"Ugh," she says as you enter the room, "yes. Buncha animals."

"Yeah, we need better friends," you say. You look around the wreckage of your living room. There are clothes from Sadie's closet strewn about, clothes you don't recognize that people presumably left behind, trash on every surface, a half set-up board game on the table, more trash on the floor, and a bunch of books and movies everywhere from both your rooms.

You think you feel your heart stop when you see the DVD case on the coffee table. There is no way anyone could see that cover and not know it's about sibling incest. It literally has the word incest in big letters on it. If you knew who took that out of your room, you would wring their neck.

You snatch it up. "Sorry," you say, and feel your stupid face turn red. "Haha, that's mine."

"Um." Sadie taps your arm, and you look at her. She's actually blushing too, for once in her life. "No, that's mine."

You stare at each other. She's as red-faced as you feel. You could say something. You shouldn't say something. You are too headachey to make this decision. You put the case back on the table.

You say, "I guess I'll go check my room."

Your DVD is still in the back of your shelf, behind the other porn. You didn't have to out yourself like that, but then again, how could you have known?

"Okay," you call down the hall, "I guess that one's yours!"

"Okay!" she calls back. You want to go back to bed, or maybe back in time about two minutes. Now you know she's still fucked up about it too, but you didn't do anything. And of course she didn't do anything. You've both been not doing anything for eight years.

But you're older now, and you understand what your parents meant. You're the older one, and the boy, and you would be the one to blame if anyone found out about you. So if she's not saying anything, you're not saying anything.

You have one more year of obligatory living together left, and you can make it through this, and after you're not around each other all the time, maybe it will finally fade enough for you both to forget about it.

*

You and Sadie agree you don't want to have her 18th birthday party at your house. Finn's parents offer up their house, and Sadie spends the weeks leading up to her birthday complaining about it being too cold to use the pool. You are glad, because it was hard enough seeing Sadie in a swimsuit before.

There are not enough chairs in Finn's house, and you perch on the arm of Finn's chair until he pulls you into his lap.

"Everyone else is doing it," he laughs, which is true, and you are not jealous of anything, because he isn't seeing Connie anymore and you have nothing to be jealous of.

Your ear is right next to his mouth and he whispers commentary on what Sadie is doing into your ear. His breath is hot and he's been drinking, but when you look at him to tell him to knock it off, he looks sad, not mischievous at all, and you are jealous of him for sure now. There is nothing keeping him from going after Sadie except their friendship, and your friendship, and her reputation, and you wish your longing could be as uncomplicated as that.

Then the look fades and he kisses you on the cheek, and one of the girls shrieks, and Sadie is yelling across the room. Jordan leans onto the other side of Finn's lap, already wasted, and starts telling the story of Melissa Gutierrez's fourteenth birthday party and everyone's, in hindsight, overblown reactions to a very tame game of spin the bottle.

Finn does not hold you on his lap, but he rests a hand on your knee. You don't move, and he doesn't ask you to, even after it's been long enough his legs must have fallen asleep.

You wonder if he is thinking at all about the kiss you shared with him at Melissa's party, or if he only thinks about kissing Sadie.

*

It is January. The weather is miserable. You are miserable. Sadie made you spend all winter break finishing your college applications. Now you are back at school and everyone is already gearing up for Valentine's Day. You have to take gym this semester because all the other electives are full. Your parents are in Morocco. They sent you a postcard.

Finn is in gym with you, which wouldn't be so bad, but thanks to Sadie's birthday party, you know he likes Sadie. You are apparently in love with him too, because you finally figured out why those feelings are different. One of them--what you feel when Sadie is with someone--is mostly envy. It's an ache you feel because you can not be more like her or be with her. Evidently regular jealousy is more like what you feel toward Finn, where you hate the people he's with, and just want him to yourself.

Except "to yourself" used to mean with Sadie, too, and you're still mixed-up about how you feel about the idea of them being together. You don't know what that feeling is, even after months of self-reflection.

*

You are a bad person, and you are stupid. You are a stupid, bad person. You knew better. You know better. What did you think was going to happen, you horrible idiot monster?

You take a deep breath. It's fine. You're fine. Sadie isn't going to tell anyone about it. She didn't even think you were serious. And it wouldn't be new information to her anyway. No one but you knows you were willing to violate all your moral principles for a sexual thrill.

You feel sick. And disappointed. And sick.

What did you think was going to happen?

You made a bet with your sister. It was unimportant, but it was also late, and you were punchy. You wagered that if she lost, she'd have to go to school with a dildo in for a week. She countered that you'd have to go to school for a week with a butt plug in. You knew you would win, or at least you were pretty sure, or you wouldn't have bet on it.

You won, and she laughed it off, because of course she did. Why wouldn't she? Why would she take you seriously? It's horrible and stupid.

And you were really looking forward to it.

You hardly sleep that night. You lie in bed for hours, but can't get to sleep or stay asleep. Why did you make that bet, why were you surprised she took it as a joke, why are you so frustrated about it?

You know why you're frustrated. It's been more than a year since you got laid. Apparently your hopeless crushes being higher than one means you have no attention span for other romantic interests. You haven't wanted to date anyone, or at least, not anyone you can actually date.

But you're eighteen and you're living with someone you're attracted to, and you don't have any other outlet. Of course you were looking forward to it. Of course you're frustrated.

Finally you decide to just jerk off and get it over with, but for the first time in years, you feel too guilty to do it right. You can't come. Sore and unsatisfied, you give up. You fall asleep for what feels like minutes before Sadie is pounding on your door and your alarm is going off.

You do not want to go to school. You don't even want to get out of bed. You don't want to see Sadie and still want her and feel like a disgusting idiot.

You get out of bed. You get ready for school. It is warm enough out that Sadie isn't wearing leggings under her skirt, which is one of her shorter ones. You are disgusting. You want to touch her, even just her leg.

You walk to the train station together. She isn't even wearing a sweater or jacket. You've got an extra shirt in your bag, but you're wearing heavier clothes than her anyway. You can't stop thinking about her skin, exposed to the elements. About what she doesn't have up her skirt, even though you won. God, you're horrible.

The train is always crowded in the morning, but today it is positively packed. You can't fit in behind Sadie, so you go in through the other door and start worming your way through the crowd to her. She hates when it's this crowded, because creeps always--

Because creeps always try to grope her.

You are a horrible person for even considering this. Worse than just lusting after your sister. But her back is to you, and she doesn't have to know, and god, just one touch and you could live off that memory. It would be the high point of your horrible gross life, and you would never do it again but you'd never have to do it again, because you would have already done it.

The next time the crowd shifts for a stop, you close in behind her. Your heart is pounding. You can't really do this. You do not say anything to her. You grab her ass.

You are a horrible person and a worse brother. She stiffens, but does not turn around or say anything. More people get on at this stop and press you closer together. This is the best chance you are ever going to get. You are horrible, but her ass is so nice. And pressed together like this, with her wearing such a short skirt, it's easy enough to slide your hand under her skirt. Her skin is so smooth. Her underwear is soft, and you are awful, because you know from doing laundry that this is that ugly yellow striped pair with the stained crotch she refuses to throw out.

Despite the cool air of morning, her ass and cunt are warm under your hand. God, this was a terrible idea, you'll never be able to forget this experience, the fact that it's your only shot will haunt you, but you're already doing the scummiest thing possible here, you cannot do it again. You should stop, because you are torturing yourself, and also this is a horrible thing to do. You can't bring yourself to stop before you have to, though.

She's getting wet, you can tell through her panties. You know it's just a physiological reaction, she's complained to you about this, about how it makes her feel like she can't trust her body, but it is so nice to think you are finally the one making her wet.

The train pulls to a halt at your stop, and Sadie shoves her way through the crowd away from you. God, you are the worst. You sidle through people to the door, then walk down the platform to the other door before you start heading toward school, in case Sadie looks for you.

She does find you, and she asks where you were, and she's upset you weren't there to back her up or stop it. If there was any justice in the world, a pit would open up beneath your feet and swallow you, but you just murmur an apology, and she takes it as a comfort.

You are the worst and that was a mistake, but it is also a memory you are going to treasure. You might be the most fucked up person in the world.

Leaving gym, a guy you vaguely recognize as taking the same train as you stops you in the hall. He says, "Hey, can I show you something?" and pulls out his phone.

You wish you had not stopped when he shows you the picture on his phone. Through what must have been a tiny and well-timed gap in the crowd on the train, he got a picture that is clearly of you with your hand up a girl's skirt. You can't exactly see that it's Sadie, but anyone who knew her well would recognize her bag and clothes.

"What do you want?" you ask, because what's the point of showing you instead of just turning you in if it's not for blackmail?

He says, "Hey, I admire you." He does something on his phone and then shows it to you as he deletes the photo. "That takes guts. I mean, your own sister."

You are so stupid. Of course you weren't going to get away with it. "What are you doing?" you ask. "What do you want?"

"Most people won't believe me without the photo," he says. "That's a little safety net for you." He puts his phone away. "But I bet she wouldn't be surprised."

You want to throw up. You grit your teeth. "What. Do you want."

"Same thing you want, apparently," he says. "I bet you could arrange a chance for me to get in there."

"I am not--" You shut your mouth. What's the other option? He tells Sadie, who will believe him, because it's true and she knows you, and--you don't know what she'll do, but it certainly won't be good. God, she hates harassers, what would she do if she knew you had done it?

You could refuse him and tell her yourself. She's in study hall this period, you could get her to ditch and meet you somewhere. That would be better than her finding out from someone else. But that still leaves the problem of never being able to go back to the way things were, and her probably hating you a little. And, fuck, what assurance do you actually have that he doesn't have that photo anywhere else?

Meanwhile, if you're arranging it, at least you could keep an eye on him. Sadie wouldn't know it, but she'd be safe enough. And--fuck, why did you do this, how could you let yourself do this, and get caught? At least you're both adults and there's no way your parents would get in trouble, but this is still potentially bad.

"Let me see your phone," you say, and he grins, and god, he is exactly the kind of sleazy creep you try to protect Sadie from.

There are no other pictures of you or Sadie, and no sent messages with the picture attached. It wouldn't be impossible for him to have hidden that, but you don't know if he would have thought that far ahead.

You give him back his phone and mutter, "I'll see what I can do."

*

It is not hard to get Sadie to follow you into a corner of the train car. She wants you to keep a secret. You feel sick.

Apparently she fucked Mr. Travis today. Mr. Travis is really cute, for someone like ten years older than you. You can imagine how satisfying that would be with Sadie's thing for older guys. You wish you didn't know so much about her. It makes you feel like a traitor all over again.

It's very crowded this afternoon too. The train brakes too suddenly, and Sadie stumbles. You catch her by the hips. You can see the guy on the other side of the car. She looks up at you to say thanks, and you look away. You can't do this. You can't do any of this. Ugh, she smells so good. You don't even know his name, but you notice when he sidles in behind her. He has shaggy dark hair and not enough stupid pictures on his phone.

You didn't think this through. You don't have any way to do this that doesn't mean she knows you're doing it.

He doesn't do it, though. He doesn't look at you. Maybe he won't do it today. Maybe you get some more time to figure a way out of this.

Then Sadie mutters, "Ben."

"What?" you ask, but you are afraid you already know.

You're right. He catches your eye and raises his eyebrow. You turn red, and he stares at you, and you nod. You grab Sadie's wrists and say, "Sorry, Sade." You can't look at her. This situation is out of control. Your life is out of control. Sadie is going to kill you.

"You _tit_," she hisses, and you are the worst person in the world.

You shrug, like your life isn't over, like you aren't literally an accomplice to sexual assault right now. "You know how it is with blackmail." Behind her, he glares at you. Sadie frowns, and god, you're too close to her. She's so cute. You're a monster. You say, "Don't look behind you, by the way. Please."

She huffs, and frowns, and she's starting to get pink in the face. Well, hell, if your life is over anyway, there isn't really a compelling argument to not look at her face.

She bites her lip. How could you have thought you'd be satisfied with just touching her? You want to kiss her. You want to have not done something stupid and shitty and impulsive that is going to ruin your relationship because you love her, and she is going to hate you.

She mutters something, which is probably derogatory and about you. She breathes in sharply, and her right arm twitches against your grip.

"Oh," she says, and looks up at you. "Blackmail. It was you this morning."

You cannot control the traitorous flush you feel spread across your face. "Uh," you say. God, she already figured it out, there was no need for you to even let this creep touch her. "Yeah," you say.

"You piece of shit," she says, but she doesn't seem angry. Or, she seems angry, but not angry enough. She seems annoyed. "I was _scared_," she says, but that's a past tense, and her arms relax in your hands a bit, and...holy shit, is she okay with this? You wouldn't be okay with this. Hell, you're not okay with this, and you're doing it.

But you weren't the only one practicing kissing, or hiding incest porn, or any of the other things you half-thought you were making up. God, and she's such a weird kinky masochist, she loves being restrained, you did know that, and now you're restraining her.

You lean in and say, quietly, so only she can hear you over the train, "What was I supposed to do, ask you?"

She smiles a little, and shifts against you, and you had not realized you were that hard. You gasp, and she says, "I guess we'll have to talk about this when we're off the train."

You sigh. You feel like crying. You thought--you thought all sorts of things, you were so worried. Now you are so relieved you can feel your stomach un-clench. It's going to be okay, Sadie's going to figure it out, she doesn't think you're irredeemable. It worked out.

She whimpers and twitches against you in response to whatever he's doing. You shift deeper into the corner, away from the doors, when you get to the stop where that side opens. Sadie chews and chews on her bottom lip to keep quiet. You are so glad you stayed away from her when she was having public sex at parties because there is no way anyone could not notice how glued to her your gaze is.

This is the longest train ride of your life. You manage to figure out what he's mouthing when he asks what your stop is, and you're all rearranged and able to get off the train as soon as the doors open. You pull Sadie towards home, but after half a block or so, you remember to let go of her. You don't want to, but you do.

Apparently Sadie's idea of talking about things with you is looser than usual. She basically tells you never to pull a fool stunt like that again, which is fair, and that "from now on" you are going to talk about these kinds of things before you do them. There is a "from now on" for you.

Once you're in the house, you pin her against the door and kiss her. You get barely a second to second-guess yourself before she's grabbing at you and putting her hands in your clothes.

You fuck right there on the floor, in front of the door, like your rooms or even the couch are too far away. They are. Distance means delay, and you are done with delays.

When you collapse onto the carpet next to her, she grabs your hand and brings it to her mouth and kisses your knuckles. She chuckles when she sees you start to cry, but does not make fun of you.

*

You make your third monumentally stupid decision of the week when you let her talk you into going through with your side of the bet. All she has to do is tell you she'll go through with hers if you do, and the next day you go to school and try not to squirm.

You don't realize how exactly colossal this mistake was until you are in the locker room for gym. You can't do gym with a plug in your ass. You're having enough trouble walking around and sitting without trying to run or play soccer or do push-ups or whatever Coach Z has planned for today.

Finn teases you for taking so long to change, and swats your ass.

This is a thing he started doing just a few months ago, as like a playful manly thing, or something. It's the worst. You have been teetering on the edge of coming out to him just to get him to stop, but you wouldn't want to tell him to keep it a secret, and you don't really want to deal with being out as bi at school. Everyone treats the out bi guys like they're really gay, even people who think they don't.

Also, and this is really petty, but you're not really friends with or into any of the out queer guys at school, but you know everyone will try to get you to at least hang out with them, if not straight-up try to set you up with whoever is single. It's just this whole thing you don't want to deal with, and you're not thinking about any of this today when Finn swats your ass.

You gasp at the feeling that shoots through your stomach from even the minor impact on the plug, and jerk away from him reflexively.

"Dude, are you okay?" he asks, and you can't help laughing.

"Yeah," you say. "Peachy." He puts his hand on your ass again, decisively. You jerk away from him again. You can feel your face flushing. "What the fuck," you say. You do not need Finn to keep touching your ass when you're already on like a hair trigger.

He murmurs, "Man, do you have a butt plug in right now?"

Of course he felt it, that's why he touched you the second time. Ugh, why does Finn have to do this butt-slapping thing today, of all days? You run your hands through your bangs. "I--yes?" you say, because no, you don't need to volunteer information about this, even to Finn, but you don't want to lie to your best friend.

"What the hell, man? Why would you wear that to school?"

"I--Sadie and I made a bet," you say, hunching your shoulders, face burning. Finn is not as dumb as he likes to play, he'll know at least why you agreed to something so stupid, even if he doesn't know you and Sadie are fucking.

"I don't know if you can even go to gym like this," he says, and puts his hand on your ass yet again. You're half expecting it, and you still flinch and breathe in hard.

"Maybe," you say, and move away from him again. God, you've had this entire conversation facing away from him, can't he take a hint?

No, because he pushes you against the wall. "Finn, what the--" He presses against the base of the plug through your clothes. You rest your hot face against the cool if kind of disgusting locker room wall. He's doing this on purpose, why is he doing this to you?

He puts his hand down your pants, and fucking feels around. Not just the plug, either. He's tracing up and down your crack and feeling your ass and nudging against the plug. It occurs to you that no one, not even the straightest, bro-est friend, which Finn isn't really, could do this and not know what he was doing. He wants to do this. He wants to do this and he didn't even bother asking.

Fuck, you are so turned on. You're breathing very carefully to try and keep quiet. It isn't really working.

He traces the shape of the plug through your underwear. He's barely even doing anything, and you're as hard as you've ever been. Every slight touch is electrifying and just this side of overwhelming.

"One of Sadie's, huh," he says, and you manage an affirmative hum. If you actually speak to him, you'll probably say something that will break whatever spell you're both living in. You do not want him to stop. He pushes at the plug, through your underwear, and you have to hold back a moan. You don't do a very good job.

He reaches around you and talks right into your ear, breathy and quiet and hot. "Did you know what a bad idea this was?" he asks, and it does not feel like a bad idea right now, with Finn pressed against your back, hard against you, unbuttoning your pants, murmuring into your ear.

"I guess not," you say, and he pulls your pants and underwear down. They catch on your erection, and you cannot contain your whine. This should be embarrassing. It is embarrassing, kind of, but it's also really, really working for you. He's not even touching you right now, and you feel like you're on fire.

Starting from the hem of your shirt, he runs a finger down the middle of your back, into your ass, and pushes at the top of the handle. God, you want him to take it out, you want him to fuck you, but you can't lose to Sadie on this, on the first damn day. "Don't," you say, too loud. "Don't take it out, I'm not supposed to, I don't want to lose."

"How would she even know?" Finn murmurs, and God, _God_, that's not a good argument, you can't lie to Sadie, not now, but God.

He pulls on the handle again, and you can tell he's only teasing, but you still whine and babble and beg him not to. Holy shit, you want him so bad.

"Oh, don't worry," he says, and you never knew Finn could sound like this, like--like he expects you to listen to him, like he expects you to do whatever he says. It's so not Finn and it's so fucking sexy. He slides a hand across your lower abdomen, then down to nudge against the base of your dick. "I'm not gonna interfere in Sadie's weird sex games."

He's pressed flat against you now, warm on your back and your bare ass and hard against you. He grabs your dick and shifts behind you, and you groan, much louder than you expected. He shushes you, murmuring into your ear, and you hardly process the words, "You don't want anyone to come investigate, do you?" You do not, because you are not a murderer but you would have to kill whoever interrupted this.

There's enough room between your hips that he can still reach the plug and wiggle it. It's weird and insufficient and you want him to keep doing it forever. He squeezes your dick, just a little.

"Why'd you agree to this?" he asks, breath tickling your ear, and you shiver. It's like he's touching you all over.

You say, "Only fair, Sadie's doing it." Maybe you shouldn't have said that, but you can't think with Finn all around you, warm and hard and weirdly sexy.

He pulls on the plug, slow and careful, and it feels so good, like it's big and stretching you out, and you know, objectively, it's not that big a plug, but compared to the neck attached to the handle, which is the size your asshole got used to over the last few hours, it certainly feels big.

"And since when do you play your sister's games?" he asks, and pushes the plug back into you. You groan and grind back into him. Fuck, it feels good.

"Since we had sex," you say, not thinking, and then say, "Fuck, no, I wasn't--" You can't even tell if he heard you, though, because he barely paused before pulling on the plug again and fucking you with it another time. You are babbling and whining and panting, and he fucks your ass with the plug and lets you thrust into his hand. "God, Finn."

He shifts against your back, then pulls you away from the wall and kisses you. You moan into his mouth as your stomach lights up with electricity. You're not even particularly close to coming and you are drowning in pleasure.

He licks at your mouth and bites at your lip, and he keeps rubbing your dick and playing with the plug. Your neck is at an uncomfortable angle but you don't want to stop kissing him. He solves your dilemma for you by moving to lick and suck and bite at your throat, and neck, and shoulder. You're trying to be quiet and hold in your moans, but you have never been that quiet during sex, and your heavy breathing is just as obvious a sex sound. At least it doesn't echo off the tile walls the way your moans do.

He pulls the plug most of the way out, and you squirm because it is too intense, it's too much, and you have to be quiet.

His lips move against your neck, and he says, "Don't worry, I'll be careful." It never even occurred to you to worry. You never thought to doubt him. You trust him more than anyone except Sadie, more than you trust yourself sometimes. You are completely in love with him, how could you have fooled yourself otherwise? He is so warm and kind and you hope this isn't a temporary thing, you don't want to pretend this never happened, you want to live in this moment with Finn's hands and mouth all over you, with Finn's sweaty shirt sticking to you, with Finn reassuring you of intentions you never doubted.

He pushes the plug back in, all the way, firmly, and takes his hand away from your ass. You're almost worried until you hear the rustle of his gym shorts moving, being pulled down, and when his bare dick touches your skin, you gasp. He taps your hip and says, "Legs together," and you adjust your stance so you're standing instead of melting against the wall, and he slides his dick between your legs and sighs against your neck. "Good boy," he says, and even if this is a temporary spell and it ends up being a one-time thing, you will always have the memory of Finn fucking you in the locker room without asking and calling you a good boy for it.

He wedges his hand between your bodies to keep pressure on the plug, and thrusts between your legs, nudging the plug and your balls every time he does so. You have to press your face into your arm to muffle the sounds you cannot keep yourself from making. He jams his hand against the plug and moves quicker, both his thrusts between your legs and his strokes on your dick and you come all over his hand.

You slump against the wall. "God, Finn," you say over your shoulder. He kisses you again, and he is still hard, sliding between your thighs. You turn your upper body as much as you can to kiss him.

He's barely come, and hasn't even caught his breath, before one of the doors to the gym bangs open. You jump and grab your pants, holding them up as you sprint to the bathroom. You clean yourself up and hide in a stall until the locker room is full enough to blend in, then grab your stuff and book it. You don't see Finn.

It takes you practically the whole next class period to pull yourself together. Mrs. Gray notices your preoccupation, you can tell, but you were ahead on your classwork when the week started, so you haven't fallen behind yet. Jordan asks you for help and ends up correcting one of your answers.

You are walking to your next class when you realize you never said anything to Finn, and consider how he is probably reacting to it. You start to text him in a panic, and then think better of it. What if he doesn't want to talk about it? Or think about it? And what would you say, anyway? Ugh, you just had to have a serious relationship conversation with Sadie yesterday, you aren't ready to have another one already. You never had this problem with monogamy.

*

You text Sadie for advice, and she takes that as permission to make decisions for you. You would argue, but honestly having her make your decisions is a lot less stressful. You don't even talk to Finn about it, really, until he's already agreed to come home with the two of you and Sadie's suggested a threesome. And even then, you aren't the one to initiate it; he leans over to you when Sadie's distracted with her phone and murmurs, "So we're okay? You're not mad?"

Thinking about how not-mad you are, you feel yourself flush. Stupid autonomic responses. "Yeah," you say. You suspect Sadie is going to make you have an actual talk before any more sex happens, so instead of getting into it on public transit, you just say, "Yeah, we're okay. I'm not mad." 

"Okay cool," he sighs, and he was worried. You knew he would be worried, it's what he does, he blames himself for stuff and dwells on it, but he was worried you would be upset with him.

You should probably not actually kiss him, in public, before actually talking about this stuff. But you want to, and the consequences for someone seeing you kissing Finn are nowhere near as dire as they would be if someone saw you kiss Sadie in public, and that almost makes it seem like there aren't any consequences. Later, probably. You can't imagine Finn would be opposed to public displays of affection.

As soon as you get off the train, he slings one arm around your shoulders, and the other around Sadie's, and walks between you like that all the way to your house. You can't believe you managed to turn yet another terrible idea around. Well, Sadie did it for you. She kind of did the other ones too, to be fair.

Maybe you were making a mistake in thinking your life went off the rails somewhere. Maybe you were the one steering wrong. Maybe you were never even on that track to begin with. Because honestly, letting Sadie call the shots the last two days has improved your life immeasurably. Finn was the one who made the move this morning. Hell, even the sleazy blackmail dude pushed you into something you wouldn't have done on your own, not that you would ever tell him that or like, thank him or anything. Still, maybe your problem wasn't that your life was careening out of control, but that you were resisting the path you were actually on. Or you were a leopard trying to change his spots. Or yet some other metaphor that won't fit perfectly, because what were you doing, thinking a metaphor could actually describe your weird-ass life?


End file.
